Branching Wherever
by Velvetblight Belial
Summary: It's the MMO equivalent of the librarian mentality. Nice girl. Kinda shy. Probably a little nerdy. But a real monster when she goes online.


_"Hakuna matata."_

\- Aladdin

* * *

The Golems were relaxing in their dreary forest spring. A few of them sat in the spawning pool with the enchanted mud up to their necks. Others climbed Treegion's protective trunk and swayed through the vines. Two or three stood stoically in place and kept watch over the area. Some doofus was standing right on the censorship line showing off the magic disappearing-reappearing abilities of his manhood as he thrusted his hips across the border.

Abby was sprawled flat on her stomach on one of her master's massive roots. It was an ideal place where she didn't always have to be bathing in the soil but she was still low enough so the ominous mist rose up underneath her and kept her moist.

Tiny violet threads of healing energy left her fingertips and traveled through Treegion's root. It was an almost symbiotic relationship. She was buffing his stats slightly and keeping him overhealed for the next potential battle. More health meant he would have more opportunities to seal hapless players in his fruit.

The "PROVISIONAL" marker blinked through Abby's name as it always did. She was one of the players who had chosen to never leave her provider's side. She got the feeling they were the type of thralls he preferred having.

She hadn't always acted this way. As a mortal Undine, she had been clean, pure-hearted, and willing to help anyone in need. Now here she was, an unholy creature of mud and darkness.

She didn't know what any of her stats were. She let Treegion manage those for her. She'd been this way for so long that she had forgotten most of her life as a sweet, innocent living Undine. She only knew she had been a high-level healer and was somewhat proficient with knife skills.

It had been a depressing and embarrassing experience when she first spawned in her startling new form, but she had come around to her fate over time. Now she even believed there were benefits in being Plutosynthesized. Everything eventually turned into soil when it died. She was just a little ahead of the curve.

There was no Moral Code for Abby. The option to obscure her body's most natural parts was always there, of course, but what right did she have to use it? Treegion had destroyed her equipment and her decency while she was developing inside the Undine Orange. This was the price for her failure, and it wouldn't be fair if she tried to keep even a tiny bit of modesty for herself. It was her duty to show off her stuff.

Abby didn't just disappear into the character. She _relished_ it.

The playing style she chose to adhere to may have seemed severely limiting at first, but there were plenty of things an Undine-Golem could do to keep herself occupied between defensive battles. Sometimes someone would start playing music over their microphone. Sometimes they'd play a game of volleyball together using one of Treegion's oversized walnuts as a ball and some of his vines as a net. Sometimes Abby would simply share idle chatter with the rest of her biodegradable party. There was something therapeutic about being able to escape into this low-stress life after a long day in the real world. It was almost like an online bathhouse. All of the Golems in this particular pit were players who enjoyed living the same kind of life as her. It was a morbid but friendly atmosphere.

 _ATTENTION ALL SLAVES: Players now invading Treegion domain._

The small alert message glowing in front of her eyes was her cue, but she could already smell their faint, uncultivated scent before the server told her they were coming. She slowly lifted herself onto all fours and mischievously glanced over her shoulder. Her naked rear was facing the forest path players had to walk through when they approached Treegion. If she didn't entice them to their demise, she would certainly frighten them with her saucy undead looks. She served as an example of what they would become if they lost the fight. Especially if there were any perky, delicious female members in their party.

She curled her fingers in anticipation, ready to spawn the amber-carved daggers that hid in her slender wrists.

* * *

 _Author's note: This bitch is based, yo._


End file.
